The Human Tablet
by PenPatronus
Summary: Dean's been keeping a secret from Sam and Castiel, and he's off to complete his own trials. SPN season 8, Kevin's point of view, hurt / comfort, angst, family, friendship, probably just a one-shot.


**Author's Notes: **This is an AU of season 8, written on May 5th 2013, after "Clip Show" but before "Sacrifice." Enjoy and review!

**The Human Tablet**

PenPatronus

It took an hour for Kevin Tran to walk down the three flights of stairs. Not because he was ill or hurt. He felt fine, physically, at least. Not because the bunker's stone steps were unsafe. Dusty, yes, from decades of neglect. Dark, yes, except for the small lanterns Dean installed at each landing. It took Kevin that long to walk down the stairs because he wanted more than anything to go in the opposite direction. He wanted the frayed sheet of notebook paper in his hand to disappear. He wanted to stab out his own Prophet eyes and break those damn stone tablets into billions of pieces. And he wanted, a hundred times more than all of that, to go back in time to the blessed innocence and ignorance of being a senior in high school. Before he met the Winchesters, before he met Castiel and Garth, before Crowley murdered his girlfriend. Before Sam completed the first two trials of the demon tablet and Castiel two-thirds of the angel's. Before Dean tracked down another tablet – the human tablet – and forced Kevin to interpret it without revealing the plan to Sam or Cass.

It was a simple plan. All things considered. For months, Dean had to stand by and watch Sam wither away as the trials "purified" him to lock the gates of Hell. For weeks, Dean had to stand by and watch Cass disintegrate as his trials gave the angel more power than any being other than God could handle. Though none of them ever said it aloud, all four men knew that Sam and Cass wouldn't survive. They would have to seal those gates with their own spirits. Dean would have to watch them die.

"Not going to happen," Dean told Kevin when they were alone. The hunter's resolve and fierce determination almost frightened Kevin. Sometimes he was scared of Dean Winchester and, always, he admired him. Together, while Cass and Sam were distracted, Dean, Kevin and Metatron delved into more lore and came up with plan B: shut the gates of earth.

If Sam shut the gates of hell, the demons would never be able to go to earth.

If Castiel shut the gates of heaven, the angels would never be able to go to earth.

If Dean shut the gates of _earth_, preferably before his brother and best friend died, he would kill two birds with one stone. Earth would be a cosmic island. No Leviathans from Purgatory, no angels from Heaven, no demons from hell, _nothing_ would be able to bother humans ever again. The remaining angels would live out their existences with human brothers and sisters and the demons, no longer an infinite hoard, possible to slow down but impossible to stop, would be picked off one by one.

Humans would be free. Sam and Cass would be saved. Everybody wins.

Except Dean.

Everybody except Dean Winchester.

Kevin walked into the bomb shelter just in time to see Dean stick the IV into Sam's forearm. Without looking up from the bed his unconscious brother lay in, he started barking orders at Kevin. "Replace the bag every five hours," he said. "80% saline, got it? You pump more than a 20% solution of those drugs into Sammy and he'll go into a coma. Got it?"

"Yes," Kevin said, surprised at how stone-solid his voice sounded. "I'll make sure he doesn't regain consciousness until this is over."

"Good." Dean pulled a blanket over his brother and then gently brushed a few stray hairs out of his eyes. His face softened, twitched. "Sorry, Sammy," he whispered, "but I can't watch you die again. I love you, little brother. I love you, Sam." Dean leaned over and kissed Sam's forehead. After one last look he turned around and never looked back.

"Holy oil?" Kevin confirmed, gesturing to the ring of liquid surrounding the bed parallel to Sam's. Days before, after he completed his second trial, Cass suddenly appeared in the bunker, spit out a mouthful of blood and collapsed into Dean's arms. He hadn't woken up since.

Dean fussed with Castiel's tie and trench coat. "Gallons of it. It should burn for days. Don't touch it, don't even breathe on it. When Cass wakes up he'll try to come after me… won't you, you son of a bitch?" Dean said to the angel with fondness in his voice. He lifted Cass' hand and pressed it against his shoulder, right over the imprint the angel left when he rescued Dean from hell. "Take care of Sammy for me," Dean whispered. "I'll miss you, Cass. So much. And I forgive you. For everything. Everything." Dean stepped back, flipped his lighter and lit the oil. Again, a last long, lingering look, and he turned his back and held out his hand to Kevin.

The point of no return. Kevin knew better than to argue, to fight. Without a word he handed Dean the text from the human tablet. Dean slipped the notebook paper in his coat and stuffed his fists into his pockets. "Thanks, kid. It's been real."

Kevin forced a small smile. "Good luck. Thanks for saving the world… again."

Dean shrugged. "Family business." He returned the smile and then patted Kevin's upper arm. "Glad you joined our family, Kevin."

And with that, he was gone. Kevin listened hard and heard the familiar sound of the Impala's engine. Then… silence.

Kevin sighed.

Dean would return, and soon. Kevin knew that for sure. Dean would turn the Impala around the moment he read what he had to do to complete the first trial: murder his best friend. That one individual with whom he shared the most profound bond. Dean would return to the bunker. And even if pigs flew and the moon turned blue and Dean did, impossibly, kill Castiel, he wouldn't complete the second trial: murder his closest blood relative.

He wouldn't kill Cass to save Cass.

He wouldn't kill Sam to save Sam.

They would all die if Dean completed the trials and all die if he didn't.

The Winchesters and the rogue angel stood where they always stood, between a rock and a hard place.

So, Kevin Tran unhooked Sam's IV and used salt to put out the fire. He took a knife and a gun got on a bus. And he prayed, desperately, to whoever or whatever out there still had ears, that Garth and his mother would forgive him for what he was about to do.

**The End**

(Probably)


End file.
